As I predicted when government subsidies for chaplains in schools was announced by the Howard government in 2006, religious organisations would need to prepare for a rough ride. As has been experienced in public subsidies for aged and health care, welfare and other community work, faith based communities not only have to negotiate competing philosophies and mountains of paperwork, but put a lot more effort into transparency and accountability to a wider range of stakeholders. This is not necessarily a bad thing – we can’t rest on our laurels and the drive to improvement of services is constantly on the radar, as it should always be.

There will be opposition, much based on misconception. Google “school chaplaincy funding” and the second highest link is to a campaign against the program on the basis of “separation of church and state.” In my view, this argument relies on a misunderstanding of the Australian Constitution which sanctions against the State establishing any religion. This has never been interpreted as non-cooperation. Historically, right from the time of the First Fleet, public policy has entertained “collaboration between Church and State.”

If the law decreed that chaplaincy funding cease based on a reinterpretation of the Australian Constitution, the government, to be consistent, would need to withdraw funding from a wide range of aged care facilities, hospitals, and welfare programs as well as withdraw chaplains from military and other services.

The best outcome, in my view, is to continue collaborative engagement with all parties bringing goodwill to the table and agreeing on the most serviceable results for the Australian community.

My regrets at not inquiring more closely when I traveled through Cherokee country in 2008 were compounded when reading this novel by Charles Frazier. His protagonist is Will Cooper, all but abandoned as an orphan at the age of 12. In his role as a bound boy running a remote trading post, Will finds himself adopted by the fading remnants of a Cherokee community. Through his eyes, we see the tale of dispossession of indigenous homelands as the invading “brave new land of the free” steamrolls its way through 19th century North America.

There are many differences and many parallels when comparing the histories of indigenous dispossession in the USA and Australia. Treaties were made and reinterpreted and broken in one context – and the doctrine of terra nullius ensured there was no thought of a treaty in the other. The end product seems similar however. A people degraded, exploited and robbed of culture and dignity, even when attempting to grasp the nettle and adapt to dominant ways.

Will Cooper, himself a materially successful exploiter of the accident of his circumstances, is regarded with suspicion, leaving him with unfulfilled issues of identity. One is left with the feeling that our tragic history of racial exploitation has left us all depleted.

My faith community purposefully set itself up in the 60s as non-gender biased – quite a statement in the conservative setting of the times. It did not matter whether it was male or female that performed ministry functions among us and there continues to be no distinction at all levels of leadership.

This does not suppress us from expressing levity at each other’s expense, however.

As prayer has come up on the blog several times this week, I offer this contribution from one of those viral emails that do the rounds and that arrived in my inbox from one of my long-suffering flock this morning:

Three men were hiking through a forest when they came upon a large raging, violent river.

Needing to get to other side, the first man prayed: ‘ God, please give me the strength to cross the river. ‘
Poof!!! God gave him big arms and strong legs…and he was able to swim across in about 2 hours, having almost drowned twice.

After witnessing that, the second man prayed: ‘God, please give me strength and the tools to cross the river.’
Poof!!! God gave him a rowboat and strong arms and strong legs… and he was able to row across in about an hour after almost capsizing once.

Seeing what happened to the first two men, the third man prayed: ‘God, please give me the strength, the tools and the intelligence to cross the river’

Poof!!!

HE WAS TURNED INTO A WOMAN!!!

She checked the map, hiked one hundred yards upstream… and walked across the bridge.

And I have just demonstrated the largesse and tolerance (if not intelligence) sometimes attributed to my gender by reprinting it here !!!

Looking forward to meeting the author, Bruce Sanguin, as he conducts a workshop at Dayspring, Saturday March 5th, and service and forum the next day at Wembley Downs Uniting Church.

In the prologue of “If Darwin Prayed” he writes:

My concern, however, is not with the fundamentalist strain of Christianity. Rather, it is with the liberal and so-called “progressive” Christians. We, who accept—and even celebrate—the scientific method and its findings, have been slow to incorporate the evolutionary nature of reality into our theology and liturgy.We do not know conclusively if Darwin lost his faith because of his discovery. We do know that the theological models available to him were limited. There is no reason for the science of evolution and the theology of Christianity to occupy separate domains. We do not need to choose between the two, as recent scientific materialists like Richard Dawkins claim we must. Science and theology represent two different ways of knowing—one focussed on the exterior dimensions of reality and one that includes the physical world but also validates, celebrates,and develops the interior, nonmaterial realm of human experience.

In the wake of the NZ earthquake, as with other natural disasters, the “Why does God allow it?” and “Why did God not prevent it?” questions have arisen in some of my circles. These questions are not new and are part of the human reaction to traumatic events that range from personal to worldwide in range of impact. They are existential questions that arise from deep places in the soul and a dispassionate and cerebral response that says “God didn’t do this – it was simply the result of a seismic shift under the pressure of two large tectonic plates” does not satisfy the angst that is being expressed. We are suddenly confronted with human vulnerability and finiteness. We are not as in control as we like to think we are. We are invited to make the uncomfortable journey from self-centredness to other-centredness, transcending anxiety to embrace compassion, courage and creation of fresh perspectives.

The why question is helpful when its part of this process. It becomes a paralyzing problem if I remain there and do not engage the continuing journey.

A colleague shared this prayer which seems apt:

A PRAYER FOR OUR FRIENDS IN NZ

Present in the earthquake, as in the fire and the flood,
not as cause but as companion,
God of life and love be with those who are suffering
in and around Christchurch.
Wrap them around with hope
and fill them with courage for the days ahead.

Give comfort to the grieving,
and strengthen those who are waiting,
searching, hoping and helping.

Show us how to be agents of healing,
bringing rebuilding and restoration
where there is brokenness,
when the time is right.
in Jesus’ name, Amen.

Rev Jennie Gordon
Chaplain
Billanook College
A school of the Uniting Church in Australia

My employment has always dictated where we live. We’ve always been very fortunate in our locations – thriving port city to bushland capital to genteel hills settings – and the last 15 years, a five minute journey from scenes like this. I probably have more sunset photos in my collection than anything else.

Here’s a prayer book with a difference – it certainly arrested my attention. It’s called “Common Prayer: a liturgy for ordinary radicals” and you can see a daily on line version at http://commonprayer.net/

An excerpt from today’s offering demonstrates the true meaning of radical (“from the root”)

Frederick Douglass [1818-1895] wrote in his autobiography, “Between the Christianity of this land, and the Christianity of Christ, I recognize the widest possible difference — ​so wide, that to receive the one as good, pure, and holy is of necessity to reject the other as bad, corrupt, and wicked. I love the pure, peaceable, and impartial Christianity of Christ; I therefore hate the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianity of this land. Indeed, I can see no reason, but the most deceitful one, for calling the religion of this land Christianity.”

The unknown matter of death continues to fascinate us, whether or not we form our view from a religious, spiritual or nihilist perspective. This film, directed by Clint Eastwood, weaves together the disparate stories of three characters, all intimately touched by death in different ways. Rising French career journalist, Marie Le Lay, survives the 2004 South East Asia tsunami, having drowned and been revived. George Lonegan, in San Francisco, flees a life long psychic “curse” of being able to contact the dead, an ability his older brother is always pressing him to exploit. A few cameos illustrate how destructive to living a normal life this is for George. Meanwhile, in London, 12 year old twins Marcus and Jason ward of Social Services to keep their small family together under the care of a loving but drug-addicted mother. Marcus’ world falls apart when Jason is hit by a truck and killed while running an errand. Slowly these stories come together, each seeking answers to their respective dilemmas. Marie Le Lay finds her career trajectory changed as she investigates the meaning of her and others near death experiences. George Lonegan flees across the Atlantic to escape his bane, but, ironically, finds himself in a place where he must confront it. Marcus must find resolution to his experience of abandonment and incompleteness as a surviving twin. These are each compelling human questions in their own right. Easy and contrived answers are demonstrated to be unsatisfactory, both in the story line, and unfortunately for the film, in the conclusion of its own narrative.

Of course, as a Christian pastor who has sat many times with those passing over the “great divide”, I acknowledge the particular bias to which my critique leans. Life and death alike are both mysteries to be fully engaged. Eastwood’s film almost makes it in places, recognising our strange simultaneous curiosity and aversion to matters of what happens after death, but doesn’t quite know how to bring a conclusion that has integrity. I came away feeling a bit like the boy Marcus when the plethora of mediums he consults leaves him speechless at their foolishness and ineffectiveness.